


Freefall

by Auggusst



Series: Heart and Mind [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Baby Peter Parker, Bond Sickness, Childbirth, Drama, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Pregnancy, Pregnant Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, baby!! the baby is here!!, graphic childbirth, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: After sixteen hours of struggling, Tony brings his child into the world.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Heart and Mind [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670740
Comments: 46
Kudos: 238





	Freefall

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this fic and the one that comes after it since FEBRUARY. I'm so happy we're finally here lmfao. This series, in actuality, is a way for me to become comfortable with the concept of pregnancy and to get over my fear of childbirth, so I'm lowkey proud that I wrote this. Good for me.  
> Also I know plenty of you have been waiting for this hehe. I have a busy day tomorrow, but after that I will get right on the next part, and it'll be exactly what everyone has been waiting for all this time :)

Tony was in agony.

That wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for him, looking back at all that he’d been through over the years, but that never made it any easier to bear.

The pain seemed to radiate from his core in waves this time, only getting stronger and stronger as time passed. _A lot_ of time had passed, since the contractions started, and since his water broke. It took hours for his cervix to dilate fully, and it’d been hours since, with him struggling, trying to push, and the ordeal still wasn’t over with.

He was tired. He was _so_ fucking tired, and burning up in more ways than one, overwhelmed and pushed to his limit, truly, and he wanted nothing more than to be done, for the pain to go away, or to consume him entirely, or something. He wanted _relief_. Nothing he’d endured so far had compared to this. It was its own brand of hardship, one that plenty of people went through, but seemed impossible, now that he was here.

The name ‘labor’ truly felt appropriate. It was hard work, extremely hard, and never seemed to finish.

Another contraction wracked his body, and he tried to push with it, like they told him to, but it was so hard to _breathe_. It just wasn’t working. It felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere, like he wasn’t making any progress. He let out a frustrated groan; the pressure in his pelvis was intense.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, to no one in particular, his head lolling to the side.

“Come on,” Rhodey prompted at his side, his hands clasped around Tony’s. “Just a little more.”

“I can’t, Jim,” Tony replied, shaking his head, his eyes shut and brows pinched. “I can’t, I—I can’t do it—“

“You _can_ ,” Rhodey insisted, squeezing his hand.

It was hard, seeing Tony like this, knowing how long he’d been in pain. It’d been at least fourteen hours—he kind of lost track at some point, and he wasn’t sure how much longer this would go on. Tony had called him Jim just now, not Rhodey, and not Honeybear, a testament to just how bad he was feeling.

Rhodey wished he could help somehow. All he could do was stay at his side, offer support alongside the medical team. He and Pepper were taking turns here, keeping the brunet company, feeding him cups of jell-o and keeping him hydrated, trying to distract him until it was time to push, but every time it was Pepper’s turn, Rhodey couldn’t do anything but sit in another room worrying, wishing it were all over already, that he could do something to help it along faster. He’d been anxious before, many times in the heat of battle, but somehow none of that compared to this. He wasn’t sure he could ever handle being a parent, if this was what it was like, and he certainly didn’t envy Tony at the moment.

He did his best to comfort his friend, to encourage him. Somewhere along the way Pepper determined that Rhodey might actually lose his mind if he wasn’t there when the moment finally came, so she let him stay while she made last minute preparations to the nursery, gathered some items to comfort Tony when it was all over.

Rhodey wished it was over now. He wished he could make it over, for his friend’s sake. He took in the exhaustion on Tony’s face, the way it was flushed and clammy, and how he trembled slightly. He’d spent hours listening to Tony struggling, his strained babbling. All Rhodey could offer to fix it were words.

“You can do it, Tones. I know you can. You’re so close already, I know it,” he said insistently.

It didn’t feel like it. Tony felt like he was at a standstill, as if he’d be stuck like this forever. He felt like crying. He felt like dying.

“He’s right,” the nurse prompted at his other side, running a cool cloth across his overheated forehead. “Just a little more, Tony. It’ll be over before you know it. Come on, momma, don’t you wanna see your baby? Don’t you want to hold him?”

Tony _did_ want him. He wanted him so, _so_ bad, wanted to just be able to hold the damn kid in his arms already, see his face, hear him cry, to know that he was okay. He wanted this over with, wanted everything to feel okay for just a second. He wanted… He wanted…

“I want Steve!” he sobbed, and hated himself for even wishing it, but god did he want him here. It’d be so much easier, he was sure, with Steve at his side, like he was supposed to be. It would all be over by now, if Steve was here, holding him, encouraging him. He could almost imagine it, could imagine the blond’s voice, praising him, supporting him, if he tried hard enough, but it wasn’t good enough, wasn’t the real thing.

On top of all of this, his heart felt like it was breaking. They’d fucked everything up so badly. It’d been almost a week and they still hadn’t heard from Steve and the others. They were out there somewhere, and Tony couldn’t reach them, and after all this time, after everything that happened, it made him feel so lonely. He needed to talk to Steve, just to hear him, but he was gone, was somewhere across the ocean, and now he was missing the birth of his son. Tony was delivering their baby without his mate at his side. As far as he knew, Steve would never be at his side again.

He could feel the tears start to spill, but didn’t have the strength to keep them back. Not now. “I need him!”

“Shh, shh,” Rhodey replied, his brows knit with sympathy. “You don’t. You can do this without him. You’ve come so fucking far, Tones. You don’t need his help or anyone else’s!”

Tony tried to believe it. He had to. He squeezed Rhodey’s hand, first in thanks, but then the ceaseless pain crested again, and then he squeezed to retain his sanity, to stay grounded as the pressure intensified, and the urge to push overcame him.

“Fuuuck!” he groaned.

He was stuck. He was so damn stuck, just there, on the brink, his heart beating fast and the blood rushing in his ears. God _damn_ it! It took another ten minutes, more pain and more suffering and desperation and struggling, his voice growing hoarse from whimpering and moaning, before he finally made progress, before the end was in sight.

He was finally getting close; the baby was in his birth canal, inching his way downward with each push. Tony could hardly breathe at this point, didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open. Every bit of energy was focused on pushing, on getting him _out_ , because he couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn’t.

He cursed his biology, for not making this any easier. He cursed _Steve_ , for putting him in this situation in the first place. He cursed anything and everything, had to place the blame somewhere when the baby crowned and he felt like he was being split apart. He let out an agonized shout that drifted into a strained whimper; he couldn’t manage much more.

The medical team wouldn’t let him rest though, wouldn’t let him give up. Nurse Celene was bracing one of his legs, and the midwife—he couldn’t remember her name right now, and he’d feel bad about it later, because he’d definitely had several visits with her during his appointments—was at the foot of the bed, ready and waiting, monitoring his progress.

“That’s it, that’s it, come on, Tony! Keep going, keep pushing, you’re so close!” she said, and there was excitement in her tone, and he knew she wasn’t just saying it to placate him.

He heaved a few breaths, his lungs feeling far too shallow, and tried again. He was afraid if he stopped entirely that it would never end, that he’d never survive this, that he’d never greet his baby.

“ _Hrrgh!_ ”

God it hurt. It hurt so much, but Rhodey’s hands around his were firm and strong, and everyone was cheering him on all at once, and the pain peaked, truly peaked, and the midwife shouted something, and then the head was out.

“Push! Come on, keep pushing!” someone said.

Tony did. He pushed with all his might, and pain rippled up his body and the shoulders followed a few seconds later. From there it was easy work, all things considered, the baby sliding out into the hands of the midwife, and Tony sobbed, and felt relief for the first time in _months_ when he heard his baby cry.

He could barely feel his body. It was all just one continuous pulse, his limbs weak and heavy and strained. He felt dizzy, like everything was spinning, but pulled together his focus, opened his eyes, desperate to catch sight of his son.

“You did it! Jesus, Tony, you did it!” Rhodey laughed, breathless and filled with excitement, and Celene congratulated him. There was a lot of chatter going on he couldn’t quite understand at the moment, but shit. He’d actually done it.

Tony licked his lips, tried to raise his arms. They felt like they were filled with lead, but he managed. “Give—give me—“

Thankfully, he didn’t have to finish the demand.

Mere seconds later, his baby was being pressed into his arms, and the rest of the world, all of his problems and worries and regrets finally drifted away. He wasn’t clean yet, still covered in some fluids, and his tiny face was pinched in displeasure, and he was crying, but his voice was strong and clear.

He was so beautiful.

“Oh my god…” Tony sighed, his voice wavering. He’d never felt love so strongly, so keenly, all in an instant. All of the pain, and the suffering and the fear were worth it, for this single moment.

Rhodey had never felt more proud. If he shed a tear or two, he couldn’t be blamed. “He’s amazing,” he said, brushing back Tony’s sweaty bangs. His gaze drifted between his best friend, his brother, and his brand new godson. The Alpha laughed softly. “He looks like you, Tones.”

Did he? Tony wasn’t sure at the moment. His hair was definitely dark; he already had plenty of it too, but Tony wasn’t sure if they shared more qualities. He wasn’t sure until the baby’s eyes opened for a few moments, and he caught sight of warm, brown eyes, similar to his own.

Tony managed a little laugh that sounded more like a sob, because now _he_ was crying. He could feel the hot tears running down his cheeks, but didn’t move to wipe them. He didn’t have a hand to spare at the moment. 

“Well momma?” Celene said at his other side, grinning. “What’s his name?”

Name? Name. Oh yeah. Everyone sort of needed one of those.

Tony struggled to recall his list of names—the pain was coming back, much more subtle than before, a deep ache, but still disruptive. He still had the afterbirth to push out, and apparently it was getting tired of waiting. He let out a grunt, tried to get his brain to work.

“Uh…uh…“

What were the fucking names? He had a handful of them, he was sure, had thought about them long and hard over the last few months. Why couldn’t he recall any of them right now, when it actually mattered?

Tony squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then opened them again, studied his baby’s face. The answer became clear.

“Peter,” he said. “He-he’s Peter.”

“Peter it is,” the midwife agreed, at the side of his bed. “Come on, Peter needs to get cleaned up, and you need to push again.” She leaned down and began to pull the baby from his arms.

Tony had only held him a grand total of twenty seconds or so, and it wasn’t long enough. His hindbrain panicked for a moment, was convinced that the act was malicious, that they were taking Peter from him, stealing him, putting him in danger, but the pain was peaking again, so he couldn’t manage more than a weak growl.

“It’s okay,” the nurse assured him, bracing his shoulder. His hands dropped to his sides, his arms exhausted, but his fingers twitched, itching to hold his child again.

Celene kept talking. “He’s not going anywhere, we’re not gonna take him from you,” she said. Her Beta scent was sweet and calming, and Tony managed to believe her.

Thankfully he only had to push a little before it was all over, properly. They’d already cut the umbilical cord. He’d been too out of it to pay attention when it happened, so the mess of placenta between his legs was cleared away in favor of prodding hands, checking him over for injuries. He didn’t have the energy to feel awkward about it. He didn’t have any energy at all.

He felt hollow, and drained, and _wet_ ; too wet, and the dizziness was taking center stage. The room felt like it was spinning and his eyes were drooping. It was too hard to focus on anything.

The medical team was saying something now, and he heard Rhodey let out a curse, and Tony got the sense that something was wrong. He tried to get his mouth to work, but didn’t think he formed any coherent words. If he did, he couldn’t really hear them. There was commotion from the handful of people in the room, and Tony caught a few snippets around him.

“Blood—“

“Need to stabilize—“

“Stitches—“

He didn’t have time to dwell on any of it, to make sense of it before he lost consciousness.

When he woke up, his first thought was that something was wrong. He felt—empty. It was stupid to say and think, but after carrying his baby inside for nine months, the sudden absence was jarring, and it took a second to realize what had happened, where he was. Everything was hazy, and he’d definitely been medicated, but even so he could feel the dull throb between his legs, the ache.

God, he felt like shit.

Reality rushed in on him all at once. He’d done it. He’d had a baby. After sixteen hours of labor, he’d brought Peter into the world, had overcome one of the greatest hurdles in his life, and damn did that feel good. It was a relief, after all this time, to know he’d gotten through it. No matter how difficult it was, he’d done it.

His eyes drifted open, took in the familiar room in the medbay, and started searching for his child, for the fruit of his labors.

“Hey, easy Tony,” Pepper’s voice said at his left. He felt her hand brush against his cheek soothingly. He didn’t have time to greet her though. He wanted to greet his baby instead.

“Where—I want—“

“He’s here, he’s right here, see?” Pepper replied, and gestured to the other side of the bed. Directly next to it was a bassinet, hospital standard, and sleeping peacefully, swaddled in a blanket with a little hat on his head, was Tony’s baby.

Tony let out a sigh of relief, felt overwhelmed all over again, but in a good way for once. He struggled to sit up, to lean over the bed. He wanted to hold him.

“Woah, careful, you’ll hurt yourself,” Pepper warned, and when pain shot down his legs, barely stifled by the barrier of painkillers, Tony hissed.

“What—I wanna hold him,” Tony insisted, ignoring his pain. His hazy eyes fixed on Pepper now, pleading.

“Okay, just a second,” she agreed, knew better than to argue right now, and walked around the bed. She gingerly scooped Peter up from the bassinet, smiled as she did so, and placed him in Tony’s tired arms.

The relief was instant, and full-bodied. Tony let out a sigh as he regarded the sleeping form of his baby. He lifted a shaky hand, traced the curve of Peter’s cheek, his nose. He was still fast asleep, probably just as exhausted as Tony was.

“Oh darling,” he whispered. “Jesus, he’s perfect.”

Pepper beamed at him, affection clear in her eyes. “He is,” she agreed. “You did an amazing job, Tony. I’m so proud of you, and so is Rhodey.”

“Where is he?” Tony asked, tearing his eyes away from Peter for a few seconds. “What happened?”

Pepper hesitated a little, sat back in the guest chair. “What do you remember?” she asked, crossing her legs.

Tony tried to think. “I—I passed out,” he replied. “I felt so fucked up. Still feel fucked up.”

That much was true. The longer he was awake, the more aware he was of the exhaustion he felt, the continuation of the fever of Bond Sickness, on top of the pain from, well, birthing a child.

He thought about Steve again. Steve, who should be here, at his side. Steve, who should have laughed and cried along with him, held their son for the first time by now. Steve, who was, to Tony’s knowledge, still missing. He thought he might cry again, swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.

“You needed stitches,” Pepper confirmed, watching him intently. “You were bleeding a lot. It took a long time to stabilize you. They worried you wouldn’t wake up again for a while; your vitals were all over the place, but you pulled through. You won’t be able to move too much for a while. The birth was very hard on your body. It’ll take a long time to heal.”

Tony let that sink in. He wasn’t particularly surprised. “Just my luck,” he sighed, shifted a little.

The redhead hesitated a moment, her eyes flitting between Tony and the baby, and Tony’s stomach sank. He’d seen that face before, on several different people, and it never meant anything good.

“What is it?” he asked, breathlessly.

“I don’t…You should hear it from the doctor,” she said, avoiding his gaze, and panic bubbled up in Tony’s chest.

“Hear what?” he demanded. “Is—what’s wrong? Is he—“ A lump formed in his throat, and he looked down at Peter again. Was something wrong with him? Was he sick, or hurt? Had Tony done something wrong?

“I’ll get Rhodey,” Pepper replied, instead of answering his question. “He went to grab some food.”

She was out of her chair and in the hall before Tony could properly protest, and he laid there, holding his child, confused, _frightened_.

What could possibly be wrong now? Hadn’t he suffered enough? Didn’t he deserve a moment of peace, of happiness? Didn’t he deserve some reward from life, for all of the suffering? Was he truly that bad of a person, that even this had to be ruined? What was about to happen?

Pepper came back with Rhodey seconds later, with the doctor on their heels. Rhodey gave Tony a reassuring smile as he entered, came to stand at his side. Pepper started wringing her hands though, and Tony didn’t feel very reassured.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Stark?” the doctor greeted, informational tablet in his hands. He spoke softly; no one particularly wanted to wake the baby quite yet.

Tony didn’t have the energy for pleasantries. “What’s the problem?” he asked instead, brow creased with worry.

The doctor sighed softly, dropped his eyes to his tablet. “Your child is relatively healthy,” he started. “No birth defects, a good pair of lungs and good heart, ten fingers and toes, and the cute button nose to go with it.” He tried to keep his tone a little light.

Tony managed a fraction of a smile. That was good, right? Everything was where it was supposed to be. He was healthy, and adorable, and Tony loved him so much. The doctor had said ‘relatively’ though, which meant there was a ‘but’ incoming, which Tony wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear.

“But,”

There it was.

“There’s a problem. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. The effects of your Bond Sickness, of the strained relationship between yourself and Captain Rogers, were not limited to your own body. The sickness and its symptoms have passed to your baby as well. His temperature is raised, and he’s showing cold symptoms: runny nose, cough, fussiness.”

Well. That was a fucking bombshell.

“This isn’t particularly uncommon in situations like these, and sometimes the symptoms abate on their own but…With a case as severe as yours, a bond so… _involved_ , only copious amounts of physical contact will solve the issue.”

Tony didn’t know what to say. What the fuck was he supposed to say? What could anyone say to hearing something like that? His breath caught in his throat, and Rhodey set a hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t help him breathe, didn’t help him understand. Why was this happening? _Why_? What had he done to deserve this?

Rhodey’d heard all of this already, and so had Pepper. They had time to process it all while Tony was resting, to lament, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear a second time, especially when Tony’s face was filled with dread now, pale and exhausted. They couldn’t imagine how he felt.

“Wha…what…” was all Tony could manage.

The doctor continued. “Strained bonds can have an effect on children of all ages, but newborns are especially susceptible, much more sensitive to the distress that comes with it all. Unless the symptoms are mitigated, he’ll have to be monitored around the clock.”

He paused, took a breath. “There’s…there’s an increased chance for infant mortality, unless things get better. We’re keeping him as close to you as possible; the more love and attention you can give, the better it will be for him, but…Quite frankly, we’re concerned it won’t be enough.”

Tony felt his heart shatter, drop straight through the floor.

So that was it then. He _had_ damned their child. _Steve_ had. Their problems, their stupidity had affected him, no matter how hard Tony fought against it all, tried to keep that from happening. Peter was sick, just like Tony, but he was just a little baby, born mere hours ago, without the strength to fight it like Tony could. He needed love, and affection, and physical contact, and worst of all? Tony’s wouldn’t be enough. He needed Steve’s, his voice, his presence. They both did, and he wasn’t fucking here to provide it. He may _never_ be there to provide it.

Tony looked down into his little boy’s face, finally noticed the flush on his cheeks, the tiny furrow of his brow as he slept. He was sick. There was no way around it, and there was nothing Tony could do about it.

His vision started filling with tears, and his throat felt tight, like hands were locked around it. He almost wished they were. He wished he was dying, or that he was already dead, because he fucking deserved it. It would make everything easier. Maybe everything would be better without him. Tony hated himself, hated every decision that had led him here. He was a failure. He’d always been a failure, and would always _be_ a failure.

Rhodey let out a sigh, expression pained. He glanced at Pepper, who was discreetly wiping tears from her eyes.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” he asked, gently rubbing Tony’s shoulder, trying to ease even a fraction of the pain he felt right now. He wasn’t sure he could.

The doctor made a face, shrugged a little. “Continue to offer your support. Having a close-knit pack dynamic will certainly ease the discomfort, but it’s exhausting for all involved. Either Tony can attempt to break his bond entirely, which can take up to two months and isn’t exactly recommended in his current state, or he has to repair his bond, emotionally as well as physically. The more time the baby spends with his parents, _together_ , the quicker the sickness will withdraw.”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, let out a shaky breath. “And he’ll—he’ll be okay? If we’re together?” he asked, dared to hope. There had to be a silver lining, right? A way out? A way to cut the wire? There had to be a chance, somehow, that his baby could be healthy, and happy, right?

The doctor nodded. “He will. Once the sickness withdraws entirely, the symptoms will go away. He’ll be strong and healthy. It’s just a matter of getting to that point.”

Tony considered that. He didn’t know if it made him feel any better, really. He couldn’t even talk at the moment.

How was he supposed to get Steve here, when he couldn’t even talk to him? When he didn’t even know where he was? How was he supposed to bring him here when he was a wanted criminal? How were they supposed to repair their relationship, make everything better when he still felt so much hatred, so much disappointment, especially now, knowing that this was really _Steve’s_ fault in the first place? Could desperation alone repair what they had, because they needed it to? Because Tony needed it to? Would it be enough for the baby? How was Tony supposed to fix all of this?

“Well fuck,” he said, barely a whisper. He didn’t know what else to say.

Peter squirmed softly in his arms then, finally waking up. Tony’s heart jumped. He looked so small, so vulnerable, swaddled and cradled in his arms. Tony lifted a hand to adjust his hat. Peter’s tiny face twisted into somewhat of a frown, and he let out a little unpleasant cough, started fussing.

That sound was all the prompting Tony needed.

The seeds of a plan sprouted in his brain, grew into the size of a Redwood in an instant. It wasn’t an ideal one, maybe the most costly plan he’d ever come up with, and some compromises had to be made, but he didn’t have another choice. He had to go through with it, make those compromises, for Peter.

The Alpha knit his brows, determination settling in his bones.

Tony looked up at Rhodey. Rhodey looked back down at him expectantly, his shoulders squared, ready to listen.

“Get Secretary Ross on the phone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please leave a comment with your thoughts!! Ahh!! And yes I am evil lmfao feel free to yell at me


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